Today I go to Anfield, where Liverpool, oxymoronically, hope To-win against Toulouse. I shall be in the Spion Kop, where, I'm sure, my fellow Kopites will also be nodding their heads sagaciously at the irony of the encounter.
Last November I went to Anfield to see the first ever league 'clash' between Liverpool and my home town of Reading. A number of impressions have stayed with me from that day: the blazing emerald green of the pitch as I emerged from the stairs into the grandstand; the pies-and-larger-shop tucked away in a concrete recess within the ageing stadium; the tightly enclosed geometry of Anfield; the row of terraced housing behind the stadium; the emotional overload of singing 'You'll Never Walk Again', with the sound reverberating off the stadium roof. That day I saw Stevie G, Carra, and even God came on as a substitute. Today, alas, none of them will be there.